The Mount
by Jasper D
The leaves here spindle round,
Lying flat on the cold, hard ground.
While all around it land’s a drought,
T’was placed neatly, this elegant mount.
In the centre, sweet daisies bloom,
Waiting for the upcoming gloom.
Never hold a single doubt,
At this neatly placed, mysterious mount.
Ants scurry about the cracks,
They think, “Is there anything this beauty lacks?|”
And when they climb out of each spout,
They think, “T’is a dream, this awe striking mount.”
Light on one side, shadow on the other,
You see something lovely and then there’s another.
In fact too many beauties on this wonder to count,
‘Till I woke up, and found there was no mount!
